


Paralysis

by totalsyndrome



Category: ONE OK ROCK
Genre: M/M, Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 05:19:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12005880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totalsyndrome/pseuds/totalsyndrome
Summary: Taka catches a cold and begins to think negatively because of the effect it has on his voice.





	Paralysis

Fishing in the middle of fall in only a thin see-through shirt is a bad idea, especially during tour. Regardless, Taka brings his fishing rod, plops on his cap and leaves for a nearby pond. He has his black mask on to prevent pollen from getting into his system and stirring up his allergy reactions. Sitting crisscrossed on a flat stone and staring blankly into the murky waters carries his mind elsewhere and he floats where the winds take him. It’s hours before he feels a tug on his line and Taka blinks blearily. He stands, slowly reeling the catch in.

A baby bass. Taka loves fishing; seeing the rewards to his patience in the form of a large, fat bass is important and so when he looks at the flailing baby, he frowns. He sighs and unhooks the fish’s mouth, releasing in back into the pond. He takes his time returning to the bus. 

“What are you doing?” 

Taka turns. One Ok Rock’s guitarist, Toru, is loitering at the storefront of Seven Eleven that’s across their touring vehicle smoking.

Pulling down his mask he says, “Went fishing.” The other sighs, his beautiful reddish hair shining and reflecting different shades under the setting sunlight. 

“What’re you doing walking around in a shirt like that.” 

He shrugs. Taka isn’t in the mood to explain, his body sluggish with every movement. He sneezes on his sleeve. Toru stubs his cigarette and reaches for him. 

“See, you’re already getting sick ‘cause of this,” he says. 

It’s not the shirt’s fault, Taka thinks stubbornly. His thin white shirt ripples as Toru flaps it, trying to make his point. The cloth slips off one of his shoulders and immediately the man lets go. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Toru stares at his bare shoulder and collarbone. Taka stares at his dazed eyes focused there instead and catches a flicker of hesitation in the guitarist’s expression. He doesn’t know if that is a good thing or not, but he’s happy. 

A smile stretches his lips. “It’s fine.” 

Toru pulls the sleeve up and swings an arm over him. He’s warm and Taka snuggles in his lover’s embrace as they cross the intersection. 

* * *

 

That night, despite his awareness of the oncoming cold, Taka scrolls through Toru’s Instagram posts. He’s read the comments on his own a while back and curious as he is, decides it is time to find out what fans has to say about Toru. Nothing grabs his attention. Taka is close to turning off his phone, the quiet and dark seducing him to sleep. Last one, he says to himself and taps a selfie him and Toru took some weeks ago. 

_“I wonder why Toru likes Taka. How can he stand him?”_

Silences engulfs him. It buzzes in his ears and it blinds his sight. 

His phone hits the bathroom door with a dull thump.

* * *

 

The next day as expected, Taka catches a cold. He coughs and sniffs all day. The whispers between the staff members are in a hushed volume, his attention on Toru. He strides over to the man, waiting for the him to scold him, tell him he warned him and he knew it was going to happen. Toru holds his wrist, craning his neck back to look at him. 

“Are you okay? How’s your voice?” 

“I can sing,” Taka croaks. The hand on his wrist tightens. 

A pretty face, cute almond shaped eyes, erotic body language and a lovely singing voice is what Taka is. Of course those are in his genes, but he works on them. He puts effort into keeping his skin clear, styling his hair, selecting clothes that flattered his body and practices daily to exercise his vocal cords. It’s for Toru. For his band, for himself. 

There are days where he neglects his physical appearance and diet. His facial hair grows thick, his lips chap and he begins to lose weight, fitting into an unattractive slim figure. Taka prefers to slump in his fluffy bed. But he notices Toru’s attitude towards him is colder when that happens. Without his feminine appearance, Toru doesn’t feel anything for him. If he lost his voice, his single redeeming quality, what would Toru do? 

“My throat is a little sore, but I can sing properly.” 

“Maybe we should take out Mighty Long Fall,” Toru says and he shakes his head furiously. 

“I want to do it.” He doesn’t want to let that song go and he’s going to perform it no matter what. Toru drags him down to eye level. 

“No screaming,” Toru says lowly. 

“Okay.” 

He lies. Taka has zero intentions on skipping the best part of the song, the ending of their setlist to win the hearts of new fans. Consequently, Toru ignores him for the remaining hours of the day. Taka accepts it, he broke a promise. He drinks his ice water while everyone else plays drinking games in the bar, hollering to drink faster or cheer their teammates on. The upbeat and cheery atmosphere gets him drunk, laughing and clapping as his friends partied their hearts out. His fun comes to a halt when he spots Toru chatting and taking selfies with who he assumes are fans. Taka’s eye narrows. 

Are they really fans? The busty, curvy women wearing revealing outfits seem like they are clinging onto Toru. Their group poses make Toru look like a playboy, an old man rocking the club with three blonde babes in his arms. He snaps the moment one of them suffocates Toru’s arm in between her D-cup breasts. She whines, most likely for him to stay and hang out more and pouts her lips for sex appeal. Taka notices Toru’s gaze gleam in interest, a crooked smirk on him. He grips the front of his shirt, rubbing his chest with his knuckles. He can’t calm the rising irritation bubbling inside. Every vein and artery thrums and gives a pulsating headache. 

The chair tips over as Taka dashes to the bathroom. He rounds the corner wall and slips into the men’s room, locking himself in a stall. He curls on top of the toilet seat covering, shaking. He knew it, he’s not good enough like this. Taka knows when his singing is no longer clear, soulful and healing, he won’t have a place anywhere. Is that it? He can’t win, nonetheless even compete with those blonde beauties surrounding Toru. Toru’s his boyfriend, yet why does he willingly flirt with them? Taka can’t understand, doesn’t want to understand and leaves the thought there. 

“Those bitches,” he snarls in his oversized hoodie sleeves. He feels his heart beat stronger. “Going to kill them.” Taka shifts in his seat and grabs the bamboo vase placed behind. He gets off and pours the decorative rocks and bamboo in the toilet after lifting the seat. As he watches the contents float tangled in a way that doesn’t mix well at all, producing an ugly colour, he throws the glass vase to the tiled floor. “Fuck,” Taka shouts and presses his palms against his eyes. The pressure relieves the stress building in them and he sighs. His arms swing limp to his sides. He wants Toru. Kicking the stall door open, he’s greeted with a confused drunk man who jumps out of his way when he glares. 

“Toru.” 

The man is drinking alone at the bar counter. At his voice, Toru sets his bottle down and turns to him. 

“What is it?” Toru rests his chin on his propped up elbow. The handsome smile is relaxed and rare. A creeping sourness tingles his cheeks and Taka fights the oncoming blush. He takes Toru’s hand. 

“I wanna go back,” he says. Toru’s eyes move about his face, searching for a reason why he is acting like this. He smacks a bill for the bartender and leaves with Taka in tow. 

The freezing air bites into his skin like a burn from a stainless steel pot straight out of the kitchen’s blue gas. Taka adjusts his collar, attempting to keep his natural heat trapped inside. He hears Toru inhale and exhale slowly, smoky wisps disappearing as fast as they form. His feet cracks the icy sheet layered on top of the asphalt. 

“Are you cold?” Toru asks and he shakes his head, burying himself further in his hoodie. He snakes his arms around Toru’s ribcage, wrapping them below the man’s pits. 

“It’s warm,” he says. Taka doesn’t mind the non-response and listens to his lover’s heart beat steadily beneath his leather jacket. A hand strokes his head. He leans into the touch, eager for more, but the hand stops petting him. Toru still doesn’t speak. Impatient, Taka peels himself from the man. “What’s wrong?” 

Toru swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He licks his lips and opens his mouth once, closes it, twice, and the third time words are formed. “Do you love me?” 

“What?” His scoff is breathy. 

“Do you?” 

The man’s expression is stern, his jaw locked in place, creases at the corner of his mouth, eyes fixed on him. 

“I do,” Taka says. Although he’s confused why Toru, his confident lover, would need to ask such a ridiculous question, he answers. Met with an unchanging face, he repeats it. “I love you.” 

Toru’s facial muscles slack and a soft smile replaces the previously rigid demeanour. He tilts Taka’s chin upwards and presses a kiss on his lips. 

“Do you?” 

“Hm?” 

“Do you love me?” Taka asks, gazing at Toru as if he were the stars hanging in the sky, a brilliant existence that is always to be admired. Toru laughed. 

“Of course I love you.” Toru caresses his pinkening cheeks, pinching the chubbiness. “Takahiro, love you,” he whispers. He smears the wetness with his thumb across Taka’s temple and brings their foreheads together. “So happy you’re crying?” 

“Really, really happy.” Taka pecks his lover’s nose, his cheekbone, his chin, raining kisses everywhere he could touch. He catches Toru’s eyes and pushes a finger against his bottom lip. The other nibbles his fingertip, flashing him an invitation with those dark brown irises of his. Taka sighs as he slots his mouth perfectly to fit Toru’s. Toru moves, coaxing him, encouraging him to be bolder, more certain. Taka does, cupping the man’s face and kisses him deeply. Their eyes flutter close, a hot gust breezing past them. 

* * *

 

He falls asleep easily. Taka doesn’t stay awake to read comments made by faceless strangers on the web, he doesn’t lay on his side wondering why Toru chose him, he sleeps. Only the fact that Toru chose him, above all with his shitty personality and attitude, comforts him. Nothing is on his mind but for Toru. 

Just him. 

Just his love for him. 

He startles awake. Taka stares at the ceiling wondering what wakes him. There isn’t a ruckus outside the tour bus. They stopped at a rest area for the night, taking their time as the band has the next 4 days off and it is dead still. A funny feeling in the pit of his stomach bubbles, stirring his consciousness. His body trembles as it crawls up to his sternum. Rumbling noises fill his ears, similar to an earthquake and he recognizes it as his shaking. He’s shaking hard that he can’t hear his own thoughts. He doesn’t understand what is happening, why he can’t stop himself. Taka senses a presence to his left, but he can’t turn his head. His body is completely immobilized. A little girl is whispering something in his ear, so clear, so real and he can’t make out her words. He stares at the window from where he is, on the bus couch, and knows its not possible someone broke in. His eyes dart to the ceiling and his vision rotates as if he’s moving off the bench. Taka’s pants come in shallow breaths and he hears it, only hears himself breathing and trembling. He swears he isn’t moving. Someone must be dragging him, dragging him down. He wants to stop, he can’t touch the ground. He calmly tells himself to stop, he yells for himself to stop and he screams in his mind for it to stop. 

It stops. 

The tension in his body gradually drains away and his shaking ceases. Taka doesn’t move for the longest time and wants to call for Toru. His voice is lost. There is an ungrounded fear that if he calls out, something bad will happen so he doesn’t. Then he should find Toru. But Taka can’t touch the ground, he’s afraid. There’s a dark shadow below. He waits. 

Footsteps pad along the narrow corridor, ruffling the carpeted floor. Taka shrinks from the sound, huddling against the wall. 

“Takahiro?” 

He lifts his head. “T-toru?” 

“Come here,” Toru says. He scoops Taka into his arms and exits the bus. 

“Sorry.” He clings onto Toru’s neck and cries. “For waking you up…” His lover’s hand smoothes through his hair and holds him tight. 

“It’s fine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Three an a half hours of writing! With a Domino's Pizza break in between. This was by far the most relaxing and stress-free to write. The lack of details show that.


End file.
